last night
by clairebare
Summary: in which cho is smart, abbott isn't a woman, teresa is an adult and patrick is patrick.
1. Chapter 1

"_And then one day and that day was blue_

_Came someone who didn't ask at all._

_And he went and hung his hat on the nail in my little attic,_

_And what happened, I can't quite recall._

_And as he'd got no money,_

_And was not a nice chap._

_With his Sunday shirts not even white as snow,_

_And as he'd no idea of treating a girl with due respect,_

_I could not tell him no."_

Miss Polly Peachum, after meeting arch-criminal, Mack The Knife/From "The Threepenny Opera" by Kurt Weill and Bertholt Brecht.

1

Adjoining.

Something about the word makes me shiver.

I don't think I've ever stayed in so lovely a place.

It smells expensive.

I turn the key in the lock.

Not just a bed, but couches and chairs and a velvety rug.

Through the patio door, the sound of waves lapping the sand.

On the bed, three dresses.

This is too nice.

2

The white dress is very smart

The green dress is very handsome older woman.

Rather near the knuckle at this point in my life.

The pink dress gives me impossible cleavage.

And not squished-together, armpit-bulging cleavage.

But Rachel Zoe-wielding-duct tape cleavage.

How did Jane guess not only cup size but volume, density, angle of repose and atomic weight?

3

I descend the stairs.

It occurs to me that Pike…uh, Marcus would like the hotel robes.

Jane looks up from the table and smiles.

I'm drawn forward by his tractor beams.

I do not want to think about Pike right now.

Cho and Abbott are there.

Cho looks up from the table.

His eyes scan my outfit.

He grabs Abbott who's nose deep in a glass of Bordeaux and hustles him out the door.

4

Jane has ordered the tasting menu for two.

Eight bite-size courses, each with a matching wine.

I eat an oyster with mignonette sauce.

I seem to like oysters for the first time in my life.

I eat cold foie gras d'oie.

Jane teaches me how to say f-wah grah d-wah.

I say it three times fast and get hiccups.

He scoops an ice cube out of his drink and touches it to my collarbone.

My hiccups stop.

5

His hand rests on the small of my back as we climb the stairs.

We hug good night.

This was a great send-off.

He unlocks his door.

I unlock mine.

We enter and close our doors at the same time.

I stand in the dark in the middle of my room teetering on my platform sandals.

I really ought to call Pike.


	2. Chapter 2

"_That's the time my head was not screwed on, _

_And to hell with going slow._

_Sure, the moon shone throughout the night._

_Sure, the boat kept drifting downstream all that night._

_That's the way it simply had to go."_

Miss Polly Peachum after meeting the arch-criminal, Mack the Knife/from "The Threepenny Opera" by Kurt Weill and Bertholt Brecht.

1

The eight sips of wine I had with my eight bites of food have left me with a lovely buzz.

I take a deep breath.

The old Jane came back to me if only for dinner.

I close my eyes.

I want to commit this last evening to memory.

Why do I feel like I'm leaving for outer space tomorrow?

I open my eyes.

I kick off my shoes and wiggle my toes into the carpet.

My vision adjusts to the dark.

I notice his wide white grin first.

Then the rest of him comes into focus.

Like The Cheshire Cat.

Jane is sitting on the couch, his arm sprawled along the back.

I'm pleasantly shocked out of my mind.

The adjoining doors are open.

"Did you know, he asks in his quiet voice, "if you want to make sure it's served cold, you should ask for foie gras d'oie froid?"

"F-wah grah d-wah f-wah?" I manage to wrap my tongue around the syllables.

Impossibly, his smile widens.

2

"You know why I'm here?" He cocks his beautiful head.

My blood pounds in my ears.

"I hope so," I hear myself say.

His utter confidence does funny things to my stomach.

He settles into the cushions and gives me his full attention.

I don't know where this is going.

I mean, I do.

I'm speaking in more global terms.

But I'm not thinking beyond this room.

I don't want to barter.

My body for his words.

I unzip the dress and step out of it.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Oh you must lie back,_

_You can't stay cold at heart._

_In the end, you have to let your feelings show._

_So the moment, you feel it must start,_

_There's no time for saying no."_

Miss Polly Peachum after meeting the arch-criminal, Mack the Knife/from "The Threepenny Opera" by Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht

1

I am Van Cliburn's piano.

Casals' oboe.

I am Patrick Jane's lover.

I took off the dress he chose for me.

The dress he wanted to see me take off.

It's been an hour since I stepped into his arms and we haven't uttered a word.

OK, I lie. I've screamed Patrick five times and moaned it once.

2

We're curled around each other on the rumpled bed.

"Patrick, don't you think we should talk?"

"We haven't had much luck with words lately. Have we, Teresa?"

"Not like you to be at a loss for words," I kiss him and smile.

He blinks and swallows hard.

"Teresa, I do have something to say. Something I've wanted to say for a while. Pretty much since we started at the FBI."

I'm breathless. This is the moment.

"I didn't know how you'd react." His voice breaks.

"Teresa, what the fuck?"

3

I'm ashamed.

I find it hard to look into those sea green eyes.

He's right.

I've been dishonest and mean.

That's the part of me he couldn't predict.

It was only last week that he realized I was prepared to leave with a man I didn't love, would never love, just to spite him.

All his mentalist alarms had been going off since I'd met Pike.

But I told him I was happy and he made himself believe me.

Didn't want to get in the way.

It was only when I couldn't bring myself to tell him I'd made the decision to go, that he realized I didn't want to.

So he decided to be sophomoric and seduce me.

Since I was being junior high-ic, sophomoric was way more than I deserved.


	4. Chapter 4

1

Not a word of love has been spoken.

But the feelings sweeping my room at Islamorada have given the bed magnetic powers.

"I feel guilty." I'm ensconced in Patrick's arms.

"I can understand that," he says.

I decide to expand. "I feel guilty about having sex with you while I'm with Pike."

He's shocked. He snorts. "That's the thing you feel guilty about, Teresa?"

"Why do you find that so strange? Being faithful to a boyfriend is a matter of honor…isn't it?"

I start the last sentence confident and loud but kind of peter out at the end.

He shakes his head grinning like when he said he could smoke me at poker.

He jumps out of bed and throws on jeans and a white buttondown.

"The more she spoke of her honor, the faster we counted our spoons."

Then he heads down to the bar to rustle me up a Sombrero.

Kahlua and heavy cream on ice.

Another guilty pleasure of mine.

I have to think about what he just said.

He's smarter than me. And it pisses me off.

2

So I think.

He always tried to do his best for me.

When he left me at sunset near Malibu, it was to save my life.

Probably did save my life.

And when he scooped me up from Cannon River, it was to give me back what I'd lost.

And when he told me he wanted me to be happy, it was because he meant it.

And was willing to endure pain if it meant I got my heart's desire.

All these years with Patrick Jane, I had a tiger by the tail.

And it was fast and bumpy.

But no matter how bad it got, he never set out to hurt me.

Like I have him this past six weeks.

I'm suddenly mortified.

3

I flash back to telling him how, unlike some people, Pike is always there for me.

Then I hear myself mocking him when Pike told him any husband or father would do what he'd done to Red John.

"Yes," I said, "Jane has all of our sympathies."

Pike was commenting on Jane avenging his murdered wife and child and I decided to bring out the long knives.

Then I made the decision to go to D.C. but I forgot to tell my best friend.

I'd call myself a bitch but I have much choicer words for me. Much.

4

You know why he hasn't yet told me he loves me?

I've been doing all I can to convince him to stop.


	5. Chapter 5

Ever since I was a kid, I've had a temper. It made me do stupid things.

Whenever it flared, my mother used to sing this little song.

She had four kids and she only sang it to me.

"Teresa and Tommy went to the circus.

Teresa got hit with a rolling pin.

Teresa got even with the circus.

Bought two tickets and didn't go in."

My cheeks feel hot. If my mother were around to see me, she'd see I haven't learned much.

Petty foolish angry girl who always insisted on cutting off her nose to spite her face.

I got frustrated with Jane and told Grace about the list of seven Red John suspects.

I betrayed my best friend and got a bloody smiley face for my trouble.

I got angry when Jane orchestrated my new job in Austin. I told him he had no right to control my life.

I wound up pushing the love of my life so far away, there was room in that life for a man I didn't love at all.

The door opens.

Beautiful Patrick comes back with my drink. My insipid, adolescent Kahlua and cream.

I have a hard time making eye contact with him so I keep busy studying the little swizzle stick.

I look up.

His blue green eyes are so clear.

"Jane? After all the shit I've pulled, did it make you love me less?"

He thinks for a beat. He nods. "A little."

I feel shooting pain close my throat.

He puts his hand on my cheek.

"But Teresa, I already loved you excessively. In fact, even after the Pike debacle,I would still describe the scale of my love for you as tasteless and unseemly."

I reflect long and hard.

"Jane, I can offer you this promise. I will commit to help you maintain your love for me at the gaudy, almost vulgar level you've mentioned.

"Great to hear, Teresa. My love for you is a big ungainly beast that has no boundaries. The beast must be fed correctly or it shrinks."

"What exactly is entailed in feeding the beast, Patrick?"

He gives me one of his most charming smiles.

"Nothing to it. Happily embark on any crazy plan he has with great gusto and optimism. Have sex with him whenever you have a spare moment and even when you don't. This makes the beast thrive.

"I'll start today working on keeping him as gargantuan and showy as he can be.

Patrick smiles, "I'm a simple man, Teresa. With a simple dream.

He finishes my Sombrero and then the beast claims my mouth.

No one's gonna be better equipped at this job than me.

What did Patrick say? "Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life.

I pull him back under the covers and will not allow him to emerge till the day after Tu 'Beshvat .

This is gonna be good.


End file.
